Feeding Squirrels On My Way To Work

Saturday, May 13, 2006

I fell asleep while I was reading this afternoon. I dreamed that Squeak was still alive. Squeak showed up in the bedroom over a year after being missing, and presumed dead. We were thrilled and surprised to find her, and no one questioned what she'd been eating and drinking while she'd been in hiding. We kept finding Squeak running around the bedroom for days afterwards, even though we were returning her to the cage every time. (In the dream, all three sugar gliders were alive.) In the dream, Squeak looked rather cartoonish - even more like the Taco Bell chihuahua than she did in real life. Eventually, we discovered that Squeak was able to squeeze between the bars in one corner of the cage - that's how she was getting out. Then someone told us that he thinks Gladden had died. We went into the bedroom and saw all three sugar gliders looking out of the top of the house - still alive. End of dream.

Friday, May 12, 2006

When I was walking home today, I happened upon a technologist from my old clinic. She was walking along the sidewalk in the opposite direction as I was. We were in front of Swedish Hospital. I think we recognized each other at the same instant. We stopped and talked. She introduced me to her coworker, who was walking with her. The problem was, I could not remember her name, and I was too embarrassed to ask. I remembered that she had left our clinic to work at Overlake Hospital, in Bellevue. She's no longer working there. I remembered that I went to a party at her house one time. But I could not remember her name. As we said, "Good to see you!" and walked on away from each other, I wondered if she had noticed that, while she had called me by name several times, I never did call her by name.

All the rest of the way home, I tried to remember her name. It was not until I logged onto Blogger to write this post that I remembered her name is Carrie. It's strange how that happens. (Didn't that happen when I wrote the post about seeing Jonathan?)

I meant to catch up on this blog last night, but instead, I watched one of two DVDs that Phillip has rented. The movie is called Flightplan. The idea of the plot is basically the same as Alfred Hitchcock's The Lady Vanishes - Mother and Daughter board an airplane together. Mother falls asleep. Mother wakes up to discover Daughter has disappeared. No one else on the plane remembers Daughter being on the plane at all. It was not a bad movie - Flightplan, I mean - but not great, either. The ending was a disappointment. There were many plot holes and several points of general oddness, and my favorites are:

1) This is a minor point, maybe, but it bugged me throughout the entire movie. With all the work that the filmmakers put into building the models, sets, and computer graphics, couldn't they have spent a few extra minute placing a logo on the tail or a stripe on the side of the plane? I mean, really, what airline paints its state-of-the-art airplane flat grey?

2) With all the sophisticated electronics the airline put into their state-of-the-art plane, couldn't they have installed at least one telephone? Did none of the 450 passengers bring a cell phone? All Mother had to do was phone a friend or relative to confirm that the daughter was still alive. (I know. It's like Alfred Hitchcock once said, if the good guy would only call the police in the first place, you wouldn't have much of a movie.)

3) When the plane lands in Newfoundland, why is the FBI there? Is the movie taking place in some future, when The Royal Canadian Mounted Police have disbanded? Or, in this future, is Newfoundland the 51st state?

4) So, the bad guys went to a lot of work planning out this plot. How could they have possibly planned that none of the 450 passengers would see Daughter board the plane?

I tried to log on to the internet yesterday morning, and our computer told me that our password and/or username is incorrect. Unlike our last, most recent login trouble, there was no suspenseful pause - wondering if it will connect or not - and no hope of connecting after five tries. Rejection was immediate, and we lost our contact with the internet - again. When I got to work, I logged into our ISP account (using our regular password and username) and requested new software. (I am now convinced that it is a software issue.) When Phillip got home yesterday afternoon, he connected right away - with no problems. So far, the trouble has gone away.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Early this morning, before I left for work, I made a commitment and signed up for a session of beginning conversational Spanish at Seattle Language Institute. I had previously looked at nearby universities and community colleges, but none had classes that worked with my schedule. Starting June 12, and running for four weeks, my Monday and Wednesday nights will be taken up with Spanish lessons.

Throughout the day, I told my Spanish-speaking coworkers about my upcoming classes. Of course, I got a lot of support and encouragement. Unlike my previous efforts at learning Spanish, this time I will have people to practice on in-between classes. I am excited.

Monday, May 08, 2006

Yesterday was Writers' Group, and I didn't have anything prepared to read. I had a few things in my journal that I just couldn't motivate myself to finish. Late Saturday night, I decided that I would bring the Gladden T Hart story, with the idea that only Barbara and Don had heard it, and that it had gone through a few revisions since they heard it, and that maybe the two of them wouldn't mind hearing it again two months after I'd first read it. On Sunday morning, I printed the Gladden story, picked up my journal just in case, and walked to church alone.

As I sat in the Sanctuary and looked around, the only other member of Writers' Group that I saw was Barbara. I found myself thinking that if Barbara were to approach me with the news that no other members could make it, I wouldn't object to canceling the group this month. I wasn't motivated for Writers' Group.

After the service, at Coffee Hour, I learned that Bernice and Russ were there, ready to read. When we gathered at Barbara and Don's house, my mood instantly changed. I was with friends and I was enjoying myself. We read stories - the Gladden story was a hit, neither Barbara nor Don objected to hearing it again. Russ read poetry! We talked and chatted and discussed ideas. Don played us some songs on some of his guitars. We kept on talking and talking. I was well aware that Writers' Group was running longer than usual.

I got home at around five. Phillip informed me that he'd expected me home about three hours earlier. He wanted to get out and do something. Saturday had been a disappointing day for us. We went to the opening day of the University District Farmers' Market, and didn't find much variety. We went to a sale at a glass studio in Fremont, but didn't find much variety there, either. We spent most of the day sitting around the house, not doing much of anything. So on Sunday, after Writers' Group, we went geocaching.

I picked out four geocaches in-between Fremont and Ballard. One was a puzzle cache I had solved earlier in the week. We found that one, and another one that was on our list. The other two were not exactly Did Not Finds, so we posted notes. At one, our search was halted by muggles. At the other one, a locked gate stopped us.

Today, I made a commitment that I will start serious Spanish lessons in June.